


Praxis

by Rynfinity



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 03:36:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2094213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rynfinity/pseuds/Rynfinity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is all taking far more work than he'd anticipated.  Not, of course, that he has <i>any</i> plan whatsoever of admitting he might have underestimated his brother.  Not even to himself.  Honestly, Loki isn't even sure he <i>could</i> underestimate Thor.</p><p>For real.</p><p> </p><p>NOTE:  This is a one-shot; a human AU that is not Babes!verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Praxis

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure where this came from, or why it didn't stay there.

"Why must you always date the stupid ones," Loki groans, flipping over in bed to roll his eyes dramatically at his brother. "Seriously, I-."

"I’m not dating her," Thor corrects, stuffing the handful of socks he's been lugging around into his gym bag. "And again, how do you know about it to start with?"

" _Sorry_ ," Loki offers, although he isn’t. He yawns and stretches, shifting until the sheets are barely keeping him decent. "Why do you always _fuck_ the- _what_ ," he squawks as Thor makes a convincing attempt to beat him to death with a spare pillow; Loki sleeps in a veritable nest of the fluffy things, forever unwilling to sacrifice comfort for personal safety. "You were. You do. I'm just telling it like it is. And mom told me," he lies.

He dodges as the pillow comes at him again. In the end he accidentally-on-purpose twists out of its path with a little more force than strictly necessary and sends the blanket flying. "She's worried about you," he tells his brother mock-seriously, so _fakey-fake_ solemn he has to bite the inside of his own mouth to keep from laughing. "You know how it is. She doesn't want you to _limit your choices_."

A brief shadow passes over Thor's face, fading behind a hot blush when he turns and catches Loki in full birthday suit glory. "Jesus, Loki," he growls, "put some fucking pants on." He spins around and practically runs for the door. "Later, asswipe,” he throws over a big, newly-muscled shoulder on the way out. “Gotta get to practice."

~

His brother doesn’t so much _slam_ the door as just shut it quickly - in his stumbling rush to escape with his preciously filial honor intact - but the sharp sound is loud enough to ring Loki's ears just the same.

He wrinkles his nose, disgusted.

Frustrated.

This is all taking far more work than he'd anticipated. Not, of course, that he has _any_ plan whatsoever of admitting he might have underestimated his brother. Not even to himself. Honestly, Loki isn't even sure he _could_ underestimate Thor. For real.

It’s his story and he’s sticking to it.

~

Because his brother can’t be trusted not to tend towards absent-minded Loki waits – still in bed, still naked - until he hears the screech of Thor’s tires before padding barefoot and silent into his brother's room. Sure enough, Thor has thrown a textbook and two folders onto the desk… which has shifted things around _just_ enough to leave the webcam pointing straight towards the head of the bed.

It's a nice, sturdy headboard, one that figures prominently in some of Loki's best-exercised fantasies, but it's not really the view he's aiming for.

Yeah, no. Not even close.

No, when Thor has whoever's he's _not dating_ at the moment down on all fours - he never does them any other way, which is just one more page in Loki's carefully-amassed volume of evidence - and is _going to town,_ the shifting bed frame is the _last_ thing Loki wants to see. 

He clambers over the mess of wrinkled, stinking laundry at the foot of Thor's bed and tweaks the camera. Rather than just eyeballing it, which isn’t easy with all the _shit_ piled up in here (and which hasn't proved all that reliable in past attempts anyway), Loki carefully crawls the length of the unmade bed. Everything smells like his brother: rich and more than a little gamey. He has to swallow down the urge to roll in it like a dog in shit. In a dead squirrel.

Yeah, okay, awful mixed metaphor. It’s fucking hot, alrighty? Just go with it.

Someday – it’s a promise he made himself months, maybe a year, ago - this bed will smell overwhelmingly of _Loki_ , sure, but this isn't going to be why. Or, now that you mention it, _how._

He looks over one shoulder and aligns himself precisely, ass to the lens, using the rumpled contours of Thor's bedding as his guide. As tempting as it is to jerk himself off, at least most of the way there, Loki refrains. With, yes, a loud sigh. His parents are home; how unbelievably awkward would _that_ be? Ultimately he settles for simply waggling his backside- well, it’s supposed to be _seductively_ but there’s a good chance he misses _that_ by a mile.

It takes three trial runs – each a hasty, silent trip back and forth between his own room (to check the footage) and his brother’s (to make some more, always with another test waggle or two... and damned if he doesn't look _good_ like this; his stubborn-ass brother simply doesn't have a _clue_ what he's missing) - before everything is lined up correctly.

 _Perfect_ , Loki thinks as he takes one last long look at today's footage. _And I really do have a nice ass._

If Thor has a _not-date_ tonight, while their parents are out at some boring grownup party, Loki's ready.

And if Thor just happens to spend the evening here alone, well, Loki's pretty sure he's ready for _that_ as well.

~

None of it works according to plan.

~

Thor stupidly spends the evening _out_ and Loki has to make do with a few very amateurish porny encounters he recorded weeks ago.

The girl in this particular footage is scrawny and boyish, with shoulder-length black hair. All of which makes him smile, at least right up until he's so lost in the slick, wet slide of his fist over his own dick that he’s not really able to concentrate anymore.

Because he is disgusting in his own right, Loki falls asleep in his own crusty spooge. Probably not surprisingly, the only dream he remembers features his brother.

~

“You’re sick,” Thor accuses, but his face is bright pink.

Loki has to concede; he probably _is_ sick. Clearly, though, he isn’t alone.

He laughs, ignoring his brother’s discomfort. “What does she have that I don’t,” he asks again.

Thor does his best to smirk, but the effort is far (prettier, and) less convincing than it should be. “Well, for starters, she doesn’t smell like sweaty balls. And she wears lingerie. And she's _no relation_.”

“ _Lingerie_. That’s a big word for you,” Loki points out, laughing, “and I don’t either.” He ignores the last bit; instead he fans his sheets and inhales deeply. “Honest. Come check it out for yourself.”

He laughs as his brother bolts – once again - for the open door. And then he hurries over to his computer and watches the camera feed intently.

Let’s just say he’s- not disappointed.

~

Thor is, as always, at practice.

No one else is home.

Everything is perfect.

Loki dons the fruits of an afternoon of Internet shopping, moving carefully and slowly so as not to damage the delicate fabric. He checks himself out in the long mirror inside his mother’s walk-in closet; the seams of the stockings are straight and the lacy thong – with its delicate, dark-green ribbon-tied back – sits _just so_. Yes, perfect.

He’s been secretly practicing walking in heels for ages, until he can strut along confidently like the best runway models. That part is easy.

Of course, if everything goes well, he won’t be doing a whole lot of prancing around today.

~

Loki takes a quick look out the window (yet again), just in time to (finally) see Thor’s car pull into the driveway and judder to a stop. He waits just long enough to see who climbs out – because how funny would _THAT_ be… but he hasn’t dressed like this to amuse whatever girl (that just happens to look exactly like Loki) his brother has dragged home this time.

Fortunately, Thor hasn’t.

~

He arranges himself on his brother’s messy bed _just so_. On knees and elbows, of course, with his pretty lingerie-bedecked ass in the air.

His brother makes a choked little noise… and then hurries to shut the door.

With both of them inside…

…which is exactly the moment Loki knows for sure he’s won.


End file.
